didnât really like me. I was a musical theater major; Tike had studied science and gotten his doctorate. I was a comedy actress wannabe, he was a doctor . Those werenât distinctions I madeâI just thought hewas a nice, caring manâbut it didnât matter. His family had decided long before we got married that I wasnât good enough for him. Still, by being there all weekend and performing at the funeral it felt like I had redeemed myself (from what I wasnât sure). Either way, I was finally in their good graces.
That lasted about three hours.
When the funeral and the wake were over, we all went back to my mother-in-lawâs house. We were chatting and reminiscing like you do after these things when something amazing happened. Tikeâs mother started talking about funeral plans for her late husband, like we hadnât just attended it. She talked about what kind of music she wanted, where they should get the flowers, who should sit where in the church. It was as though the funeral hadnât happened. I dismissed it as the shock of sudden griefâshe was clearly out of it, having just come from burying her husband and filling up on fried funeral food.
I found a moment when she was distracted and pulled Tike into the kitchen to ask him if his mother was okay.
âSheâs fine,â he said, âsheâs talking about the other funeral this weekend in Mississippi.â
Other funeral? MISSISSIPPI?
It turns out they were going to have a second funeral in Mississippi all along, since thatâs where his father grew up and was where a lot of his family still lived. It just so happened that my husband never bothered to tell me about it.
This was a problem.
From the minute we got the news that my father-in-law had passed away, the plan was that I was going to fly to Michigan with Tike for the funeral, perform the song they asked me to do, be there for him during his tough time, and then travel on to Florida where, the following weekend, I was booked to do a show. The venue had already sold lots of tickets, my family was planning to attend, and more important, Iâd signed a contract. Iâd given my word. Now, Iâm just finding out, there would be a second funeral on the same day that Iâm scheduled to perform some six hundred miles away? With all the ups and downs Iâd been through at this stage of my life, it was only fitting that a dead man created the first scheduling conflict in my young career!
I didnât know what to do.
On the one hand I felt like I had fulfilled my obligation to my in-laws and I had been there for my husband like a good wife is supposed to be. It wasnât my fault that I didnât know they scheduled two funeralsâand anyway, who does that? Who gives a loved one a proper funeral and then says, âHey, letâstake this show on the roadâ? On the other hand, if it meant that much to Tike, I would cancel the show and deal with the consequences. We talked it over in my mother-in-lawâs kitchen and came to a decision.
I left for Florida the next morning.
The decision deeply upset my mother-in-law, but Tike promised that he would take care of the second funeral (and his mother) while I did my show. We were apart for that whole weekâhim with his family in Mississippi, me with mine in Florida, before we both headed back to California to pick up where weâd left off. I got back to L.A. first, and Tike arrived a couple days later, with a suitcase full of dirty laundry . . .
. . . and a handful of divorce papers.
The suitcase could have been filled with bricks and I donât think it would have hit me any harder. I mean, whereâd he even get the papers? This was preâLegal Zoomâhow did he have time to find a lawyer? Weâd been married three years and hadnât experienced any issues to that point, beyond not seeing each other much as we tried to make it in Hollywood, so as shocked as I
That lasted about three hours.
When the funeral and the wake were over, we all went back to my mother-in-lawâs house. We were chatting and reminiscing like you do after these things when something amazing happened. Tikeâs mother started talking about funeral plans for her late husband, like we hadnât just attended it. She talked about what kind of music she wanted, where they should get the flowers, who should sit where in the church. It was as though the funeral hadnât happened. I dismissed it as the shock of sudden griefâshe was clearly out of it, having just come from burying her husband and filling up on fried funeral food.
I found a moment when she was distracted and pulled Tike into the kitchen to ask him if his mother was okay.
âSheâs fine,â he said, âsheâs talking about the other funeral this weekend in Mississippi.â
Other funeral? MISSISSIPPI?
It turns out they were going to have a second funeral in Mississippi all along, since thatâs where his father grew up and was where a lot of his family still lived. It just so happened that my husband never bothered to tell me about it.
This was a problem.
From the minute we got the news that my father-in-law had passed away, the plan was that I was going to fly to Michigan with Tike for the funeral, perform the song they asked me to do, be there for him during his tough time, and then travel on to Florida where, the following weekend, I was booked to do a show. The venue had already sold lots of tickets, my family was planning to attend, and more important, Iâd signed a contract. Iâd given my word. Now, Iâm just finding out, there would be a second funeral on the same day that Iâm scheduled to perform some six hundred miles away? With all the ups and downs Iâd been through at this stage of my life, it was only fitting that a dead man created the first scheduling conflict in my young career!
I didnât know what to do.
On the one hand I felt like I had fulfilled my obligation to my in-laws and I had been there for my husband like a good wife is supposed to be. It wasnât my fault that I didnât know they scheduled two funeralsâand anyway, who does that? Who gives a loved one a proper funeral and then says, âHey, letâstake this show on the roadâ? On the other hand, if it meant that much to Tike, I would cancel the show and deal with the consequences. We talked it over in my mother-in-lawâs kitchen and came to a decision.
I left for Florida the next morning.
The decision deeply upset my mother-in-law, but Tike promised that he would take care of the second funeral (and his mother) while I did my show. We were apart for that whole weekâhim with his family in Mississippi, me with mine in Florida, before we both headed back to California to pick up where weâd left off. I got back to L.A. first, and Tike arrived a couple days later, with a suitcase full of dirty laundry . . .
. . . and a handful of divorce papers.
The suitcase could have been filled with bricks and I donât think it would have hit me any harder. I mean, whereâd he even get the papers? This was preâLegal Zoomâhow did he have time to find a lawyer? Weâd been married three years and hadnât experienced any issues to that point, beyond not seeing each other much as we tried to make it in Hollywood, so as shocked as I
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